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Sunday May 27th; An annual tradition in my wife’s family, the day before Memorial day, is to come down out of the mountains into the flatlands to the small town of Hygiene, Colorado. The purpose of this journey is to pay respect to our ancestors. This type of event is foreign to me as I have no recollection of visiting any graves on my side of the family. This is not a unique situation to some one with the convoluted upbringing that was my childhood.

Anyway I digress, this day my wife, daughter and I join the family, a first for myself and my daughter my wife having participated in the past. We leave at dawn and meet up with others in Boulder for breakfast then it’s off to several nurseries for fresh flowers for the cemetery that allows them and a hobby store for plastic flora for the one that doesn’t. The next stop after that is the Hygiene cemetery, a small plot of land with no water and scant funds for upkeep.We clean the sites of my grandfather and grandmother-in laws along with Grandpa Jack’s brothers who were both killed in World War 2. This unfortunate turn of events kept Jack out of harms way for the remainder of the war and quite possibly was the reason the family grew to what it is today.

Fate is fickle, when you realize the countless circumstances that have happened for any of us to be alive today.

Once again I digress, the reason I’ve called ya’ll here today is to relate what happened next, after the housekeeping and the stories told, I started wandering, although I have no memory of visiting the deceased from my family tree that does not infer that I am a stranger to the final resting places of the dead, quite the opposite, I’ve been drawn to them my entire adult life. The older the better, the more neglected the sweeter. Read more ›